Fauxmance

Keisha ends the call with a sharp click. Her boyfriend’s excuses crack mid-sentence and she leaves him hanging. Chloe hears the raised voices through the wall and knocks. Keisha opens the door in tears, mascara running. Chloe takes one look at the slinky dress and canceled plans and decides the day needs saving. She runs a bath, drops in fragrant salts, and slides behind Keisha. Suds foam between them. Chloe’s hands glide over warm skin, cupping and squeezing Keisha’s breasts until her nipples tighten beneath slippery fingers. Keisha sighs, murmurs thanks for the rescue. Chloe leans forward without thinking and brushes her lips across Keisha’s neck, then her mouth. Keisha freezes, startled. Chloe bolts, apologizing down the hallway. The next afternoon Chloe knocks again, voice low. She admits she’s been into women and wants Keisha specifically. Keisha admits the attraction cuts both ways. Relief meets worry; neither wants to wreck their friendship. Keisha shrugs, smiles, says the only way forward is up. She steps in, palms Chloe’s waist, and they kiss hard, tongues sliding, bodies pressing closer with every breath.